Eve’s Story: a ruined childhood

I never considered these things to be this wrong until a few years ago. When these things happened yes they made me feel weird, and disgusted. But I was young at the time.

The first time somebody molested me it happened on the bus, it was elementary school graduation day and I was wearing a dress for the occasion. I always had to count the number of students on the bus. And while doing this that day, one of the kids decided it would be funny to lift my dress up and show my ass to the rest of the bus while I was unaware. one of the other kids told me what happened although I never told the bus driver or a teacher or my parents.
The second time it happened in what I thought was the safety of my own room. I was playing with my neighbor, a girl my age but significantly bigger. She forced me into kissing her on the lips twice, threatening to ruin my friendships if I didn’t. I have always been a victim of bullying, and had only 2 close friends at the time so this scared me as I would loose the only people who actually cared for me. Eventually her older brother came to take her home but no one found out about this event. I didn’t tell my parents in fear of getting beaten or not being believed.

The third time I was molested, it happened at school. We had just had a fire drill and while everyone was walking back in one kid got me and pushed me against the wall. He stood with his body pressed against mine and i was utterly disgusted. All the students were walking around us, ignoring what was happening. No teacher was around to stop him. I then kicked him, I don’t remember where but it was hard enough he let me go. I then ran away and went to my locker. I unlocked the door and tried to hide my face from the crowd. Eventually I stood up to leave when I felt a sharp pain on my cheek and saw him at the end of the hall. He’d thrown a ball of paper at me and hit me right on the face and was laughing with his friends about it when they walked away. These three experiences are probably nothing compared to what someone else has been through, but for me they mean a lot. They’ve made me who I am, and I hate it. I’ve hates wearing dresses since that day, I refuse to. I had my first kiss stolen from me. All these experiences have each left their mark on me. I hate being in large crowds, I get panic attacks. Every attack on a human, Big or small, it leaves its mark.

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